Ranking My Past Lovers By How Well They Charged My Phone Overnight

There are many ways to measure a man.
How he texts. How he touches. Whether he believes in astrology or pretends not to, but lately, I’ve found a new metric. One so mundane, it’s almost erotic in how it reveals character: did he remember to charge my phone after we slept together?

Not in a ‘plug it in and forget it’ way.
I mean really charge it. Pick the right cable. Angle the wire so it doesn’t slip. Place it face down, maybe even turn on Do Not Disturb. Like I’m someone he expects to see again. A man who charges your phone right charges other things too—your appetite, your sense of safety, your belief that chivalry isn’t extinct, just quieter now.

So, in no particular order except emotional carnage:

The Screenwriter (Battery: 9%)

Talked for three hours about mise-en-scène and couldn’t find the charging point in my bedroom. Used his last 3% to queue an ambient jazz playlist, then passed out like a fallen poet. Left me stranded in the morning with no Uber and a text: “Hope you find a plug point—literally and metaphorically.”
Blocked.

The Silver Fox (Battery: 100%)

Eight years older. Always had a fresh towel ready, a side of dark chocolate, and the correct cable for both iPhones and Androids. Even wiped my screen with his handkerchief before bed.
This one went on for a long time, but this is how I want to remember him: A full battery and zero emotional lag.

The Dentist (Battery: 47%)

Had the bedside manner of a god, but a cable fray situation that required me to hold the charger at a 45-degree angle the entire night. Sweet, attentive, but ultimately exhausting. Dental coverage: great. Emotional support: flaky.
Unmatched with grace.

The Writer-Not-Author (Battery: 68%)

Wrote captions for a sneaker brand. Said things like “words are my love language” and still made me ask for the WiFi password. Didn’t charge my phone, but lit incense and told me to “soak in the slowness”. Sir, I have a meeting.
Left his charger at my place, though, so in a way, he’s still useful.

The Ex (Battery: Variable)

Sometimes he’d charge it. Sometimes he’d drain it. Like the relationship, it was unpredictable, low-key addictive, and always teetering on the edge of dead air. Eventually, I bought a second cable—one for me, one for him—and realised I was parenting a grown man.
Never again.

We don't ask for much. Not a relationship status, not a toothbrush left behind. Just a full charge. A sign that while I was asleep, someone thought about my morning. It’s the new intimacy:
NotI love you, but your phone’s at 98%—I unplugged it before it overheated.

And if he does that? Keep him.
Or at the very least, rank him respectfully.